


Fright Night

by Berenbos



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Funny, POV Fox Mulder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-02 20:53:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15804381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Berenbos/pseuds/Berenbos
Summary: Movie date night with Scully does not go as planned when Mulder decides to rent a horror film.Set during late season 7, before Je Souhaite but after Hollywood A.D.





	Fright Night

Judging from the lingering smell of weed coming from the back room, I'm pretty sure we must've visited this downtown Blockbuster last Winter when Kersh had us run background checks. I didn't exactly care about the weed then, and frankly, I care even less now. My mind is otherwise preoccupied.

I confess that I occasionally gaze at Scully. It's only natural, she's a beautiful woman. Hardly anyone ever notices, of course. Special Agent Fox Mulder might be “out there”, according to some, but I am perfectly capable of maintaining a professional façade with my partner, thank you...

However, that wine-colored tank top of hers is really starting to toy with the caveman part of my brain, especially now that our relationship has recently developed _beyond_ gazing.

I wonder if she's chosen it on purpose, figuring that it would drive me mad. Would she ever do that?

Scully is strolling through the Thriller section, painstakingly trying to decide what movie we should see tonight, her eyes skimming over the descriptions on the back and ignoring my stare.

I usually let her do the picking. She's the movie buff who wanted to introduce me to the classics after all, whereas I'm just the guy who genuinely believes _Plan 9 From Outer Space_ is a masterpiece.

But that damn tank top... It's doing things to me, and, well... Would Scully ever be interested in us deciding upon one of the movies from the dimly lit corner behind the gray curtains? Even though _I_ am likely more of an expert on that particular genre, I would still be willing to let her do the picking if she wants to.

Either my brief glance over at the concealed 18+ section was too longing, or I hadn't heard her first "Mulder", but when Scully calls my name, her tone is low and sharp enough to make me snap out of my trance immediately.

"Yes, dear?" The 'dear' slips out, I cannot help it. It's another natural reaction to seeing my beautiful Scully in a wine-colored tank top.

I immediately realize she might not like this nickname. We haven't even discussed pet names yet, that's how brand new this all is, so I have no idea. About the only thing I know for certain by now is that I should never call her 'baby'.

Luckily, 'dear' passes the test, as she doesn't flinch. In fact, she looks mildly amused.

" _Fight Club_?"

She holds up the cassette, reminding me that we are, in fact, here to pick a movie. Brad Pitt, with his 'perfect jawline' and 'deep, blue eyes', is judging me as a hypocrite from the cover, just because I don’t want Scully swooning over him, whereas I would gladly introduce her to the world of pin-up ladies, plastic boobs and fake moans.

I blame the tank top for awakening the Neanderthal in my brain. _He_ 's the one who makes me think about said ladies and who gets irrationally jealous if Scully were to watch a movie with Brad Pitt in it. Not that I'm actually going to admit this. “Hmm, I dunno...”

“It's received great reviews.”

“And some shitty ones.”

Scully sighs and puts the cassette back. “Give me some suggestions here, Mulder. What do you wanna watch?” And I swear I hear her add “no porn” under her breath.

A light flickers on in my brain; a heavenly choir accompanies angels descending from above, blowing their trumpets in front of Blockbuster's selection of horror movies. I remember how Tim from the 10th grade recalled Lisa squeezing his hand and burying her face in the crook of his neck during _Jaws_.

“How about we watch a horror movie?” I offer sheepishly, nodding at the rack with zombies, ghosts, vampires and werewolves behind Scully. They sure as hell beat Brad Pitt. “We haven't watched horror yet.”

“Hasn't there been plenty of horror in our lives already? Last time I checked you hated movies that might as well feature us", she smirks. Why she doesn't seem to mind _The Lazarus Bowl_ cash grab at the box office nearly as much as she should is beyond me.

“Well, last time _I_ checked there has been some romance in our lives too, and yet you made me watch _Sleepless In Seattle_ two weeks ago.”

“Don't act like you didn't enjoy it", she says, raising one eyebrow skeptically. She obviously knows perfectly well I enjoyed it.

I merely shrug, but Scully probably doesn’t even notice. She glances over her shoulder, checking out the horror movies with what I hope to describe as unease.

It's not just the tank top. About anything that the person wearing it says and does, tends to take my breath away. The muscular manly Neanderthal named Gnak living inside of me would love nothing more than to hold her and protect her from all the horrors of this world, to chase away the monsters for her.

And she's right, we get plenty of that in real life, which is why a horror movie should be the perfect substitute. Right?

I take my chances, step closer with a confident grin plastered on my face and whisper only half-jokingly in her ear: "Don't worry, Scully. I'll protect you."

I should have expected a slap for this, but it doesn't come. Instead, she turns to face me with a smile, our noses nearly touching. "In your dreams."

Her skin smells of lavender, her breath of mint, and I almost drown in her ocean blue eyes. It takes some epic willpower not to kiss her right there, underneath the buzzing neon light in between the Thriller and Horror sections at Blockbuster.

Fortunately, perhaps _because_ she felt the air around us electrifying, she turns around again before I do something stupid. I know she doesn't like public displays of affection (New Year's Eve was a rare exception), so why go there when I'm already taking chances on the topic of tonight's movie selection?

"So horror it is then?" Scully asks, and I nod and inwardly fist pump when she starts scanning the movies behind her.

My work here is done, I'll let her take care of the actual picking part. After all, I don't know the first thing about horror movies, I never watch them.

\---

After decidedly not selecting _The Silence of the Lambs_ because she doesn't want me calling her "Clarice" for the rest of the evening, nor _Scream_ because it looks silly, nor _The Sixth Sense_ because Charlie accidentally spoiled the ending to her last time he came over, we settle on _Event Horizon._

It's a futuristic film about the starship Event Horizon, which disappeared "seven years ago", in the year 2040, before reappearing in a decaying orbit around Neptune.

I inform Scully that if the movie is going to blame aliens for the loss of the spaceship, they'll hopefully do so properly. There's no literature mentioning any sort of E.B.E.'s in that particular corner of the galaxy, except maybe for --

\-- The microwave signals that our Hot Pockets are ready and Scully gets up surprisingly quickly, as if she doesn't want to hear everything about Titanian critters.

Oh well, it's of no matter. It's a delightful summer's eve, I've got a Philly Steak & Cheese Hot Pocket, a can of Dr. Pepper and my girl in the wine-colored tank top already nudging close to me. Even without Titanian critters, life is good.

And it's only going to get better once we get to the scary part of the movie.

Admittedly, it is somewhat disturbing. The rescue crew has been put to sleep in water tanks and the guy from _Jurassic Park_ is the only one to wake up... I carefully try to decipher Scully's glance from the corner of my eye, but she isn't even wincing. All she does is comment that the movie obviously didn't consult astrophysicists since sound doesn't travel through space. I already form "nerd" on my lips, when --

_Jesus Christ, his wife has no eyes_!

_Jurassic Park_ guyscreams, and I choke so hard on my Hot Pocket that I need to get up and Scully has to pause the video in order to ask me if I'm alright.

"Yeah, I'm fine... I just got startled", I respond once my lungs begin to fill with air again.

"Really? I thought you could see that jumpscare coming from miles away."

"How could you have seen that coming? It was completely out of the blue!" I counter, but she just shrugs.

"I assume you learn to decipher their pattern when you watch a lot of horror movies."

I suppose it's a good thing that Scully will always keep me guessing, that we've known each other for seven years and I still discover new things about her every once in a while. But _why didn't she tell me before that she actually watches this kind of stuff_?

We should have gone with porn in the first place.

However, there's still no reason for me to accept my defeat. I might as well enjoy the movie, without betraying my cool exterior, and wrap my arm around Scully's shoulder protectively, just in case she gets scared anyway.

I've run out of Dr. Pepper and Hot Pockets, and Scully only has eyes for the movie, so I'm forced to pay full attention as well. I come to the conclusion that _Event Horizon_ must've been written by a madman. Someone so cruel, so disturbed, that they can come up with scenarios I probably wouldn't even dream of during my worst nightmares.

Okay, you know what... I'll admit it: this is pretty scary. Apparently, I don't handle cabin fever well. Or gore. Or psychological horror for that matter.

I'm in deep trouble when it starts getting dark outside. I can feel my muscles tense and there's still not a single sign that Scully is fazed by all of this. She doesn't even want to turn the lights on because it'll "ruin the atmosphere".

And worst of all (at least according to Gnak the Neanderthal living in my brain): it's gotten chilly so she's put on a sweater.

We're not even forty minutes into the movie when I really start to question my life's choices up to this point and curse my stubborn manliness. A mutilated corpse appears on the screen, and I'm forced to accept that I'm in the process of seeing a mutilated corpse floating through space, with both his eyes gouged out. I shudder and desperately want to close mine, like any normal human being would, and --

\-- "There's no way his veins would burst like that. Parts of the body would probably start to bulge due to the lack of atmospheric pressure, and there would be some subcutaneous bleeding from ruptured blood vessels, but the human skin is resilient enough to stay intact."

"Are you kidding me? A man just died." My voice sounds about two or three octaves higher than it should.

"I'm just saying that it isn't scientifically accurate." When she’s stating this, Scully casually takes a sip from her glass of milk, as if she's watching Mickey Mouse instead of literal footage from the abyss.

I soldier on, though. On and on, one hallucination and mutilation and catatonic scream after the other, until I'm close to assuming a fetal position and rocking myself to sleep. One jumpscare too many sends me flying three feet into the air, screaming like a little girl, and Scully actually asks me if we should watch something else.

"Of course not, I can handle it", I lie, but when I sit back down next to her, and she grabs my hand reassuringly, I squeeze it anyway.

***

"Don't worry, Mulder. I'll protect you", I whisper, as I manage to hide my amused grin in the crook of his neck.

His skin smells of cold sweat, his breath of Hot Pockets, and I feel as though I'm about to drown in his soaked t-shirt, but plant a soft kiss on his stubbled jaw anyway.

"Next week we're watching _Caddyshack_ ", he mumbles as he leans into my lips and finally allows himself to close his eyes.


End file.
